Submerged
by SkyeRose
Summary: Her body gave a short spasm as her lungs cried out for air. Sam looked up, but truthfully, she had no idea where the surface was. With a horrifying certainty, she realized she had already taken her last breath. And it hadn't even been a good one. Set mid season 8, not fluffy, but definitely SamJack!
1. Chapter 1

**Submerged**

**Chapter One: Underwater**

**A/N: So this will probably end up being a three or four chapter story, but knowing me, who really knows? I've always realized Sam is my favorite character to put in perilous situations. Maybe I should do a Jack or Daniel one at some point. Not Teal'c though. He's too tough for that ;)**

**Enjoy!**

Dark, salty water filled her mouth and nose, eyes squeezed shut as she tumbled head over feet in the raging surf. Waves crashed all around her, lifting her comparatively small body and tossing her like a piece of driftwood. She couldn't breathe. Panic made her eyes snap open as her whole body was submerged yet again, the violent current buffeting her in all directions. Underneath the waves all she could see was blackness. _'If space were an ocean…'_

Sam kicked desperately at the dragging liquid, sputtering and gasping when her head broke the surface. She took as deep a breath as her straining lungs would allow before another massive wave crashed down on her, spinning her limp body beneath the surface. Forcing her eyes open, she flailed her arms, trying to find where the ocean ended and the air began. Which way was up?

In her mind, she saw Daniel standing on the edge of the rocky crag, arms reaching out for her, as the rocks beneath her gave way and she tumbled into the water below. They never should have been on that cliff—not in this weather. Rain and wind were pounding against the uneven cliffside and nights on this planet were nearly pitch-black, the only light coming from faint stars.

But Daniel had to see where the path led. "Maybe there's a power source down there! Something that can help us fight the Goa'uld!" She had shaken her head, telling him that there was no evidence to suggest there was anything worth finding down there and besides, the storm was rolling in. He had pursed his lips and done his little frustration dance before pointing at one of the monoliths that surrounded the deserted city.

He had proclaimed that the writings said there was a weapon unlike anything the "golden-eyed ones" had ever seen before. Teal'c had looked skeptical and asked why, then, had the people not used it and saved themselves from destruction.

Daniel didn't have an answer to that one.

But Sam's curiosity was piqued and she had succumbed to Daniel's eagerness. She had left Teal'c to guard the entrance to the path with strict instructions to return through the Stargate for reinforcements should they not return in an hour. Then she and the archaeologist had picked their way carefully down the cliff.

And now she was here.

Her throat felt like it was on fire as salt water pushed its way into her mouth. The ocean on this planet was huge, making up almost 95% of the surface. And she was being dragged further from land. Her head broke the surface again and this time she heard Daniel desperately screaming her name above the wind. She tried to yell back, but she was too out of breath, all of her strength going into keeping herself afloat.

"Sam! Sam!" She couldn't see him, it was too dark. And she was too far away.

'_I'm going to drown.'_ She felt the sudden inexplicable urge to laugh. Of all the ways she could die and it was going to be something as human as _drowning_. In an _ocean_.

Pain exploded behind her eyes as a wave hit her from behind, dragging her down yet again. Her lungs screamed in protest—she hadn't had a chance to take a breath. Her waterlogged mind suddenly jumped back a couple of years, when she and the general had been trapped in a quickly sinking Goa'uld ship.

The general.

Daniel and Teal'c were going to have to tell him what had happened to her. They were going to have to explain her error in judgment. No doubt they would blame themselves, but she knew the truth. It was only her fault. And the general would know that too. _'Boy, is he going to be angry.'_ The errant thought almost made her laugh, but her lips were pressed together too tightly.

Her body gave a short spasm as her lungs cried out for air. Sam looked up, but truthfully, she had no idea where the surface was. With a horrifying certainty, she realized she had already taken her last breath. And it hadn't even been a good one.

….

"Teal'c! Teal'c!" Daniel screamed over the driving rain as he raced up the path, slipping at every turn. "Teal'c! Help!"

The big man was suddenly in front of him, grabbing Daniel's upper arm to steady him. "Where is Colonel Carter?" He yelled, eyes wide as he searched behind the archaeologist.

"She fell! The rock underneath her gave way! She's going to drown, Teal'c!" The second the words left his mouth, Daniel felt like throwing up. She'd been _right there_—right next to him. And he hadn't been able to save her.

Without another word, Teal'c had bounded down the path, Daniel close at his heels, to where Sam had last been standing. Their flashlight beams swept the water, but there was no sign of a blonde head. Just crashing black waves. As the storm grew in intensity, the waves reached higher and with detached horror Daniel realized they had only minutes until the path was submerged.

"I do not see her!" Teal'c yelled, face a mask of fear and frustration. "Daniel Jackson, I do not see her!"

"Teal'c!" Daniel grabbed the man's arm and shoved him back against the rocks as a wave crashed down on top of them, soaking their already drenched skin. Daniel felt his flashlight get torn from his hand as he and Teal'c slid sideways. The cliff was giving out.

"We must go!" Teal'c sputtered as another wave slammed into them.

"But, Sam…!" Teal'c grabbed his vest and began yanking him up the path. They were shivering so hard, it made running almost impossible, their knees locking and muscles clenching. Teal'c felt the rocks below him start to fall and with one last burst of inhuman strength, leapt, pulling Daniel with him.

They landed with an unceremonious thud, the ground underneath them blessedly solid. Daniel whipped around, sitting up, and looked with horror at the sharp edge where the path had been. "No!" He yelled, slamming his hands into the dirt and half-crawling to the cliff—he looked down and felt bile rise into his throat. It was a sheer drop. "Sam!" He screamed, wind carrying his anguished voice away.

"Daniel Jackson!" Teal'c grabbed his shoulders with both hands and yanked him to his feet. Lightning cracked overhead as Daniel pushed against the bigger man.

"We can't leave her!"

Teal'c struggled to still the younger man as he pulled him towards the gate. "There is nothing we can do!"

"We can go in after her!" He broke free and made to run at the cliff, but Teal'c grabbed him around the waist and threw him over his shoulder.

With his free hand, Teal'c slammed in the correct coordinates and pressed in their IDC. But his fingers were stiff and his mind jumbled in panic and he could only hope he pressed the right sequence. "I am sorry, Daniel Jackson!" He clutched the man tighter as he ran towards the wormhole. "I am sorry."

They tumbled through the gate, Teal'c releasing Daniel as the unforgiving metal grating raced up to meet them. They rolled to a stop, both soaking wet and gasping for air. Jack raced down from the control room, dread filling his every fiber. "Daniel! Teal'c! What happened?"

"We have to go back!" Daniel was yelling, fighting the airmen that were trying to restrain him.

Jack's startled eyes found Teal'c, whose head was bowed, eyes staring sightlessly at the floor. "Where's Carter?" When neither man responded, Jack felt like the floor was tilting beneath him. "Teal'c, where is Colonel Carter?"

"I am sorry, O'Neill." Teal'c did not raise his eyes.

He was going to be sick. He was pushed aside as the medical team rushed in with stretchers. Daniel fought and called out to Jack that they had to go back, had to try, but Jack barely heard him. He was staring at Teal'c, the most stalwart member of SG-1, hell, of the entire planet. Teal'c, who had just fallen to one knee, hands clenched at his sides. Teal'c, whose teeth were gritted as he let out a wordless yell of grief.

Grief.

Suddenly, everything was too much—the lights too bright, the yelling too loud, the pain too much.

She was gone.

**TBC**

**A/N: Oh, the drama…next chapter up soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: She Fell**

**A/N: So sorry about the wait! I'm moving back to school, so things have been hectic, but they should calm down soon! Thank you for all the wonderful responses!**

**Enjoy!**

Jack stared hard at the screen, watching as the MALP's video relay grew staticky, then clear, then static again. The storm was still raging on the planet and he couldn't risk sending another SG team to the other side for retrieval. He swallowed hard when once again the realization that this would not be a rescue mission washed over him.

"_She fell." Daniel's muted voice was still full of disbelief. He couldn't look up at Jack, so instead he focused on the infirmary wall across from him. "She wasn't even close to the edge."_

"_Why were you down there?" Jack tried his best to swallow the fury he felt building in his chest. He told himself it wasn't Daniel's fault, but deep down, he knew he would never be able to forgive him._

"_I…I wanted to see…" Daniel hung his head miserably, a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn't believe it—he couldn't actually believe she was dead._

"_Daniel." The fearful edge in the older man's voice finally made him look up. "Is there any chance she's alive?"_

_Daniel opened his mouth, but the sudden lump in his throat made it impossible to speak. The soft rustling beside him told him that Teal'c had stood. "I believe there is little chance Colonel Carter survived." The big man was pale, but he had regained his usual composure. _

"_Okay. Okay." Jack felt his head bobbing up and down and he knew he was speaking, but he didn't know why. What was the point? Samantha Carter was gone. As in never coming back. Without another word, Jack pivoted on his heel and left the infirmary, his heart trying desperately to claw its way from his chest._

And here he'd ended up. He'd ordered the MALP through, hoping that once again, against all odds she had somehow survived. She was the most resourceful person he'd ever met and he knew she was a strong swimmer. Maybe she got caught in the current and dragged away from shore, but she would make it back once the wind and waves died down.

The heaviness that had settled over Jack's entire being lifted; that was it. She wasn't lost. She was just waiting for the weather to calm before she could make her way back to shore. Depending on how far out she was swept, she might get tired before reaching the shore. They needed a rescue team, not a retrieval. What had he been thinking? This was Colonel Samantha Carter, theoretical astrophysicist, and total badass.

"Get SG-3 prepped and ready for the rescue mission. As soon as that storm ends, we move out. Prepare two inflatable rafts as well." Walter looked up at him questioningly, but simply nodded, paging SG-3 over the intercom.

Jack rocked back on his heels as Walter shut down the gate, the sergeant's hands shaking almost imperceptibly. The general frowned and looked around the room. There had been a suffocating air around the base ever since Daniel and Teal'c had come back without Carter, but now…now there was almost an air of fear.

'_They think I've lost it.'_ Jack mused, unable to bring himself to be upset. All he cared about was getting Carter back—they had always made it out in the past and this was no different.

…

Daniel felt like he was moving through a fog; people flit like shadows out of the corner of his eye, disappearing when he felt too tired to notice them. He had been released from the infirmary, but hadn't really known where to go or what to do, so he'd sat there, watching Janet make her rounds. Her eyes were red and puffy, but her voice was strong. Daniel felt his heart grieve for Janet's loss…for his loss…for all of theirs.

But most of all, he felt sorry for Jack. Jack O'Neill was the kind of man that took his people's safety to heart, believing each casualty a personal failure, even if he wasn't on the mission. But Sam…Sam had been his second in command for over eight years, his go to right hand "man," as it were, and one of his closest friends. She had broken him out of his shell in a way Daniel had never dreamed possible. He invested the world's safety in her day after day, trusted her unconditionally…and Daniel knew he also held a forbidden place in his heart for her.

A place that would now only be filled with regret.

Because of him.

Daniel pressed his palms into his eyes until red stars burst. He should've grabbed her, he should've done something…anything.

"Nothing could have been done, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's deep voice startled Daniel, and the archaeologist dropped his hands, blinking rapidly to clear the multicolored spots filling his vision.

"How did you…?" Had he been speaking out loud?

"I know you, Daniel Jackson, and I am aware of your guilt. There was nothing you could have done." He paused, shrewd gaze on the younger man. "O'Neill will not blame you."

"I saw his face, Teal'c." Daniel looked away, trying to get the image of Jack's shock out of his mind.

Teal'c bowed his head, his voice growing quiet. "It came as a great surprise." Another pause and Teal'c looked up. "To us all."

"This isn't really making me feel better." The muscles in his jaw jumped and Daniel felt heat flooding through him. Anger, he realized. At least he was finally feeling something.

"Daniel Jackson…" Teal'c trailed off, his jaw working, but his eyes dark. After a moment, he turned and left the infirmary, all of his unsaid words still hanging in the air.

…..

Jack couldn't believe they'd found her—they'd actually _found_ her. After hours of a fruitless search, he'd spotted her blonde head bobbing a hundred feet from his raft. Without thinking about it and ignoring the much more helpful option of paddling over to her, he'd jumped in, swimming hand over hand until he reached her.

Her nose and cheeks were red and chapped from sunburn and her eyes dull with exhaustion, but her smile was the only thing Jack could focus on. "Sir!" Her voice was scratchy, but whether that was from disuse, screaming, or the salt water he wasn't sure.

"Hey, Carter." He returned her grin warmly as he wrapped his arm around her back, supporting her exhausted form. "How was your vacation?"

"Just fine, sir. Thanks." She rolled her eyes and broke into a small coughing fit. Jack looked behind him to the quickly approaching raft. He placed his free hand underneath her rib cage and turned her so that her back was against his chest. "Sir, as much as I'd think this was otherwise nice…" She trailed, feeling Jack's smile against her neck.

"Calvary is almost here, Sam." He deliberately used her first name, letting it say all the things he couldn't. Something churned the water behind him and Jack turned, expecting to see the boat, but felt his heart sink instead.

The boat was gone.

But…how?

The sky above was darkening and a chilling wind had kicked up, spraying water into their faces. "Carter!" He yelled, turning her around, fear coursing through him. But he knew what he felt was nothing compared to the terror on her face. Jack squeezed his mouth and eyes shut as the first wave pounded them, sending the pair spinning through the surf.

"Sam!" He sputtered as he broke the surface, still clinging to her shirt.

"Sir! Don't let go!" Her cold fingers clutched at his wrist and even as he promised not to, he felt his grip slipping.

Then she was gone—torn from his grasp and tossed into the waves.

Again.

"Carter!" Jack bolted up, the back of his head hitting the smooth leather of his chair. He looked around, mouth hanging open slightly. He was in his office, so…it had all been a dream? Anger and sadness filled him as he realized they had yet to find Carter—it had been almost twelve hours and the storm still hadn't died down.

He felt his panic rising, but quickly stifled it. She was still fine. All she had to do was float around for a little while. The annoyingly realistic voice in Jack's head was about to argue, when his office door burst open without warning. Glancing up in surprise, he took in Walter's slightly disheveled appearance.

"Walter?"

"We're good to go, sir." He was out of breath and color rose high on his cheeks.

"Page SG-3." Jack stood, his chair spinning behind him. "We leave in ten."

**TBC**

**A/N: Next chapter up soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Not Pudding**

**A/N: Thank you for all of your wonderful patience and even more wonderful responses! It's what keeps me going! I'm all moved in (except for the aesthetic stuff), so the only things in the way of posting are school and work. But, hey, who actually needs those? **

**Enjoy!**

Jack tapped his fingers against the keyboard anxiously, not even noticing the gibberish he was typing into the computer. SG-3 had been gone for over an hour and they hadn't called back yet, which meant they hadn't found his colonel yet. "Where are they?" Jack growled for the tenth time. Walter glanced up, but had long ago learned that the general was talking to himself and not expecting a reply. "Where the _hell_ are they?"

Walter turned back to his terminal, chewing on his lower lip, worry flashing across his face. He knew the odds of them actually finding Sam—knew that everyone else on base knew too…except for General O'Neill. But he also knew O'Neill would never give up on one of his people, especially not Colonel Carter.

The sergeant jumped as the Stargate began to whir, the klaxons blaring as someone dialed in. He glanced at the general and saw the man go still, sitting ramrod straight, military mask trying to cover genuine fear. "SG-3's IDC, sir."

"Open the lid." A ghost of his wry self came through.

After a moment, the screens lining the control room illuminated, showing the pixilated face of Colonel Reynolds. "Sergeant, do you read?" His voice was cutting in and out, but it wasn't terrible.

"Reading you, sir." Walter responded, looking at the screen closest to him. The colonel looked…off.

"Is General O'Neill present?"

"I am." Jack had resumed his tapping again, this time on his thighs. "Carter?"

Reynolds seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then the screen jumped and Jack figured the signal was just bad. "We found her, sir." Jack felt like he was going to cry and lose his lunch at the same time. He sat there for a moment, staring at the grainy picture of SG-3's leader, and thought that he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Well done, Reynolds. Bring her home." Jack patted himself on the back at how even he managed to keep his tone. And that he hadn't started jumping up and down.

"We can't yet, sir." Reynolds' voice was quiet and he glanced over his shoulder.

"Med team?" Jack understood the worry on the other man's face. Carter had been out there for a long time—she was probably in need of medical attention and a new set of BDU's before they could make the trek through the gate.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Reynolds looked like he was about to say something else, but shut his mouth, clenching his jaw.

"I'll go find Daniel and Teal'c. We'll come through with the med team. ETA ten minutes, colonel." Jack slapped his hand on the table and stood up, practically bouncing as he left the control room.

Walter watched until the retreating form of the general had disappeared. Then he turned back to the screen and Reynolds' anxious face. "General?"

"He's gone, colonel." Walter checked behind him once more, just to be sure.

"Sergeant, under no circumstances are SG-1 and General O'Neill to come through, do you understand me?" Reynolds' eyes were dark and he stared hard into the MALP's camera.

"I can't exactly stop him." Walter swallowed hard at the thought.

"Sergeant, that is an order."

Walter bit the inside of his cheek and winced when he tasted blood. "I'll do what I can, sir. SGC out."

…..

"What do you mean, SG-1 can't leave?" Jack looked from Doctor Frasier to Walter as he secured his hat on his head.

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't think Teal'c or Daniel should be going anywhere just yet." Janet tightened the straps on her med pack and looked up at the general.

"But you cleared them."

"To go home. Not for duty. This situation has been trying on them both physically and emotionally." Janet signaled to her team and they signaled back, they were ready to go. Janet tried to school her features as best she could, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't actually going to need any life-saving equipment.

"Fine." Jack looked up into the control room and signaled for the technician to start dialing. "That doesn't mean I can't go."

Walter flinched internally. He actually hadn't had anything to do with Frasier putting her foot down on SG-1 leaving and he'd been hoping the general would choose to stay as well. No such luck. Not that he'd actually believed the general would back down.

Janet glanced at the sergeant before shaking her head. "I guess not, sir."

"Then let's go." Jack raised his eyebrows, letting just the right amount of annoyance creep into his tone. After the hours he'd spent wondering and waiting and thinking all sorts of court martialable things….they'd found her.

They'd found Carter.

…..

Everything was going in slow motion; the ocean crashed mutely against the rocks and though he felt the wind, it wasn't making a sound. Instead, there was an increasing whine in his ears, filling his mind with static and cotton. Why did he feel like he was moving through pudding? He looked down at his boots—nope, no pudding.

But there was mud. And mud kind of looked like pudding. Pudding with crushed up Oreos.

Jack shook his head and looked back up as Reynolds ran towards him, his mouth moving. Jack frowned, he still couldn't hear anything. The pudding-mud sucked at Jack's boots as he took a few steps forward. He began to open his mouth to ask Reynolds what was going on—for some reason he couldn't remember what he was doing here. The air was getting too thick—like a clear liquid plastic was slowly filling the world. Jack briefly wondered how he was breathing.

Without warning, Reynolds was suddenly too close, his forearms pressing against Jack's chest, shouting something at the people who were all gathered several feet in front of Jack. The general looked at the colonel's forearm and felt the pressure of his vest as Reynolds pushed hard against him. Why was there so much pressure?

Then Jack realized he was pushing against the younger man with all his strength, the toes of his boots making deep grooves in the pudding.

'_No, not pudding. Mud.'_

"Sir! General, please!" Reynolds shoved hard against him, both of their boots skidding on the soggy ground.

"Goddammit, Reynolds! Move!" The viciousness in Jack's tone surprised even him. He was suddenly very tired, exhausted even. _'But why?'_ The group of people all kneeling on the ground made Jack nauseous and he had the sudden, fleeting feeling he'd already seen what they were all gathered around. But he couldn't remember.

"General, don't do this!" But the man's protests fell on deaf ears as Jack grabbed the man's arm and shoulder and shoved—_hard_. Reynolds stumbled backwards and Jack pushed past, running towards something he couldn't remember.

Something he could never forget.

"Stop him!" Reynolds called to someone in the group. "Stop him!"

"Sir-!" He heard Janet's strained voice, her pain confusing him. Her small hands landed on his back, but Jack ignored her.

A flash of blonde hair caught his eye. Blonde hair poking out from a white plastic sheet. Jack reached for the edge of the sheet, fingers trembling, his mind trying desperately to put up a wall, to create a defense. To put together what the hell was going on.

But he already knew. As his fingers brushed the cold plastic, he realized he already knew exactly what had happened.

"For god's sake, somebody stop him!" Reynolds yelled as he ran towards them.

But it was too late. Jack ripped the plastic away and felt his stomach rise up his throat and into his mouth. Everyone around him was shouting, people pulling at him, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

_Torn, soaked BDU's._

Jack felt someone strong grab his shoulder, but he swung his opposite hand as hard as he could and he felt the hand drop away, someone crying out in pain.

_Grey, sightless eyes._

Someone was crying; deep gut-wrenching dry sobs that burned through Jack's body, anger and annoyance radiating through to his fingers. Wait…was he the one crying?

_Bruised and bloated skin._

He was being dragged bodily away, his chest burning as his lungs refused to fill with air.

_Dull blonde hair streaked with pudding._

'_No,'_ Jack reminded himself. _'Not pudding. Mud.'_

**TBC**

**A/N: Hate me yet?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Last Words**

**A/N: Wow. I can honestly say I've never gotten so many responses to one chapter before! Thank you so much! Hopefully, I can keep you interested! This update is for you, JodyMarie, as you'll be gone for a week!**

**Enjoy!**

Daniel leaned against the briefing room window, stony face staring out at the gate. His tears had long ago dried and his eyes felt scratchy and swollen. He pursed his lips tightly together—he'd noticed over the last day or so he'd taken to making an involuntary moan every once and awhile. Every time he saw Sam's face in his mind's eye.

Sam smiling, Sam laughing, Sam crying, Sam yelling…the only thing he couldn't see was Sam and the absence of all those things. Sam expressionless, Sam cold, Sam dead.

Daniel felt the familiar lump forming in the back of his throat, but no tears leaked from his eyes; he'd already cried himself dry. Sam was his sister in every way except for blood. In more important ways than blood, and now she was gone. He'd let her go.

It was his fault.

…..

Janet stood on the metal staircase that lead up into the briefing room from the control room. Her shoulders were held stiffly, her back now used to the over-tense she'd started to carry herself. The way she'd carried herself ever since she had stepped onto that cliff and saw the soaked, swollen body of her best friend.

Sam was always the one who made it back, always the one who found some way. Janet would never have believed this if she hadn't seen it for herself. If she hadn't had to press her hands against her friend's soggy chest and begin compressions even when she knew she was way too late. If she hadn't been pulled away by one of her staff.

If she hadn't seen the general break.

Janet felt another tear slip down her cheek as she watched Daniel clench his jaw in his reflection. He blamed himself, Janet knew. A little piece of her blamed him too, but she knew it wasn't his fault. He couldn't have done anything except fall in and drown too. _'But then she wouldn't be alone.'_

…..

Teal'c lit the last candle and settled himself in the middle of his floor, folding his legs and resting his hands on the tops of his thighs. He tried to turn his mind off, to find that place of kel'no'reem, but he couldn't do it. He kept feeling the cold water droplets sliding down his arms as he lifted Colonel Carter's prone, plastic wrapped form onto a metal gurney.

He still couldn't understand why there was no padding on the gurney. Did the dead not deserve to be comfortable as well? Could they not be bothered to put a blanket on the cold table? Had Colonel Carter not earned that little comfort?

Teal'c squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered how the plastic had slipped for just a moment and her ear was laid bare. He had noticed that the small hole where women on this planet inserted small posts—earrings, he recalled—had bruised and turned black-purple, decaying.

No. This was not what she deserved.

….

Jack stared down at the paper in front of him. It was too white, he decided. Too white and too flat. And the words were too big and too black. He couldn't even read it properly, words and phrases kept jumping out at him. 'Regret,' 'Family of deceased,' 'Honor,' 'Killed in Action…'

But these words didn't make any sense to him. How could they? The name at the top of the paper read Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter. His Carter. Even though he was well aware of what they each faced every single day, he had never once thought these papers would have her name on it.

Jack placed his hand on top of the paper, marveling at how the words all disappeared when he did that. Then he made a fist, crumpling the paper into the tightest ball he could, and threw it across the room. That wasn't the first KIA form he'd ever had to fill out, but it would be his last. He'd lost focus—lost balance and objectivity.

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it happened, couldn't remember exactly when he realized it, but for as long as he could remember, his judgment had been compromised when it came to his captain-major-colonel. He also couldn't pinpoint the moment that everything had changed—when they had fallen apart. They barely spoke anymore and, when they did, it was clipped, short, annoyed.

Jack swallowed hard as the last words he'd said to her—the last words she would ever hear him say—came screaming back to him.

"_Sir?'"Her short knock was punctuated by the nervous tone in her voice._

"_Come in, Carter." He hadn't glanced up from his report._

"_This mission that SG-1 has today…"_

"_To P8X-something? What about it?" He still hadn't looked up, but he could picture her twisting her hands in front of her anxiously._

"_I was wondering how important I would be to it." Her voice was strained and Jack immediately knew something was off. Even if they weren't as close as they used to be, he still knew her better than anyone._

_He finally looked up. "Got someplace better to be?"_

"_Not really." Her expression was neutral, but Jack saw the panic in her eyes when she'd realized what she'd said. "I mean, that is to say…Pete wants to get invitations." Something flashed across her face, but it was gone before he could read it._

_Jack felt the familiar jolt in the pit of his stomach when she mentioned the other man's name. "Today?" He let just enough scorn seep into his tone._

"_Yes, sir." She looked down, studying the tips of her boots intently._

"_Have you tried telling him you're, I don't know, busy?"_

"_Yes, sir. But…he's being very insistent."_

"_Well, what do you want to do?"_

_Sam looked up, surprise evident in her expression. "Sir?"_

"_Not a hard question, Carter." He knew he wasn't being fair, but he couldn't bring himself to care. _

"_I, well, we're running out of time to…" She squeezed her eyes shut and looked back at him, her eyes boring into his. "Honestly, sir?" Jack made a motion of agreement. "I want to go on this mission. I don't want to get invitations, or flowers, or-," She cut herself off and looked apologetically at him."I don't mean to put this on you."_

_Jack watched her watch him and for just a second, he wondered if she wanted him to say something, to absolve her of her guilt. To give her a reason to not want to plan her wedding to someone else. But the moment passed. "SG-1 is cleared to leave in an hour."_

_Sam opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but she nodded her head curtly instead. And then, because he was angry at himself for not giving her a reason and angry with her for letting it go, he added. "And Carter? In the future, try to keep your personal business out of the mountain." Then he'd gone back to his paperwork._

_He'd never seen the shame color her cheeks or how she'd stood there for a moment just looking at him…wishing she could take it all back._

But hindsight is 20/20 and Jack could now picture her expression after his biting words. He could see the sadness in her eyes for them…see the heartbreak when he didn't come down to wave them off. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. Jack felt his stomach pushing its way up his throat and swallowed hard. He hadn't cried since he'd seen her lying on the beach, but he felt the tears pushing at his eyelids.

His time was up and he knew it. Everything had changed—_she'd_ changed him. Given him a reason to be the man he was. But now she was gone and he had no purpose. Jack pulled another sheet of paper towards him, one that he started two days ago when his colonel had been carried back through the gate. Quickly scrawling his signature to the bottom of it, he slipped it into an envelope and sealed it.

He would make Carter's memorial service the most meaningful damn one the military had ever seen. Then he was done. Out.

General Jack O'Neill slid his resignation into the outgoing mail box and stood. He hadn't been able to bring himself to go see her since they'd brought her home. But now…it was time to say goodbye.

…..

A great shudder ran through her and she sat bolt upright, her disused muscles screaming in protest. Gasping for air, she looked around at her surroundings. The dark crystalline walls were slick with moisture, the floor cold and damp. Small portions at the top of each wall glowed faintly green, giving the room an ethereal look.

Panic flooded through her as memories came rushing back. Wind and water and Daniel shouting…

Where the hell was she?

**TBC**

**A/N: I was going to let you guys wonder is she/isn't she a little longer, but I've decided to move forward a little faster. Hope you don't hate me anymore!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Sight Unseen**

**A/N: So sorry for the long wait! It won't (hopefully) happen again! Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and insights! Also, no one had mentioned it, but I figure I'll just say it anyway, Janet is not dead in this story. I hate that she died. So, yeah. She's alive. Cool.**

**Enjoy!**

Sam looked around wildly, eyes wide and breath coming in short, labored gasps. She tried to calm her racing heart, but it was no good; she felt like a caged animal waiting for slaughter. She stood, her hand reaching out to brace herself against the slick wall. Nausea roiled in her stomach and she pressed her palm harder against the cool, jagged surface of her prison trying to ground herself.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she slammed her lips together, teeth clenched. _'I will not vomit, I will not vomit, I'm fine, I'm fine.' _She repeated the words over and over, the phrases becoming a subconscious mantra. Blinking rapidly against the hot tears that pushed at her eyelids, she took two deep breaths, then pushed away from the wall and opened her eyes.

Sam silently thanked whatever god was listening that she managed to keep the contents of her stomach down as she looked around, taking in details this time. Her "cell" was shaped like a dome and only nine or ten feet across. The cool hues being bounced about by the small light sources in the walls barely illuminated the entire room and Sam squinted as she took a good look around her. There didn't seem to be anyone else in there with her.

There also didn't seem to be a way out.

…

The walls that had seemed so familiar to him three days ago now felt cold and clinical. Just grey concrete with a side of grey cement. Grey like Carter's eyes…Jack tried to muster the energy to shake the image from his mind, but he couldn't. He'd only seen her for a split second on that beach, but he feared that would be how he always remembered her. Grey and cold instead of the warmth and fire that she used to be.

Used to…

Jack pushed open the door to the makeshift morgue. It was actually just an observation room with a separate thermostat from the main one on base. Ignoring the chill emanating from the room his eyes fixated on the sheet covered figure lying prone on the freezing metal table. He had given strict orders that no one be allowed down here except for SG-1 and Fraiser. He didn't want this to be how the men and women of the SGC remembered Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter.

Without realizing he was doing it, he had stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, welcoming the blood-chilling air that engulfed him. He still didn't know how he was going to tell Jacob. They hadn't been able to reach him—apparently the older man was on some secret Tok'ra mission, but they'd contact the SGC as soon as he was back.

Jack grimaced and clenched his hands into fists inside his pockets. He didn't want to move his colonel until her father had been allowed a proper goodbye. Allowed to see his little girl one last time—to hold her hand and try to ignore how cold it was…how she didn't squeeze back.

Jack swallowed the bile that was quickly rising and he felt the sudden need to do _something_…anything. He wanted to scream and shout and cry and remember…his insides clawed at him, desperate to have some purpose. With a pang that he didn't really feel Jack realized he would never have purpose again. He'd let down the one person he was never supposed to let down. He should've been on that mission. He should've ignored the storm and sent in the rescue team as soon as Daniel and Teal'c had come stumbling through the gate.

But he hadn't.

He'd killed her.

Jack stared down at the white sheet, the glare from the overhead light almost blinding. For a second, the sheet seemed to shift over her mouth, like a breath being exhaled sharply, and Jack blinked, heart thudding in his chest. He stared harder, but it didn't come again.

Wishful thinking.

With a trembling hand his fingers brushed the edge of the sheet at her hairline and he froze. Once he did this, once he saw her face—really saw her face—that would be it. There would be no turning back, no miracle, no one last time.

No always.

Jack pulled his hand away and turned abruptly on his heel. He couldn't do it. He wasn't ready to let her be dead.

…

Sam leaned against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest, and her fingers idly trailing in the ever present moisture on the room's floor. She'd spent the better part of two hours searching every inch of this place, trying to find a weak point—some way out. But there was nothing. Every surface was smooth and completely intact, but unless she'd somehow managed to start breathing anaerobically, fresh oxygen was coming from somewhere.

She just needed to find it.

She stood too fast, her head swimming and vision dimming slightly. _'Concussion.'_ She mused absentmindedly as she resumed her inspection. _'Must have hit my head on something.'_ Reaching up, she felt through her hair for any lacerations or bumps, but came up with none. _'Maybe I swallowed too much salt water?'_She vaguely remembered something about the effects of severe dehydration, but her tired mind refused to pull the information from its depths.

She snorted when the realization that it didn't matter if she was dehydrated or had a concussion, she'd probably be dead soon anyway. Instinctively she knew she'd been down here for a day, maybe two. If any rescue team had been sent, they were long gone by now.

Sam felt a pang deep in her chest as the general's face floated in front of her still-wavering vision. She knew he'd never give up on finding her, but there came a point when the flag needed to be thrown or the card had to be drawn…Sam shook her head. The general would know what she was trying to say.

Sam took a deep breath, renewed determination blooming under her ribcage. If she ever wanted to see her friends again…if she ever wanted to see _him_ again…she needed to focus. She was on her own.

So caught up in her thought was she that Sam didn't notice the other presence in the room until it was too late. Strong, clammy limbs wrapped around her ankles and yanked, sending the already battered colonel crashing to the ground. Catching herself on her hands at the last second, she winced as she felt her skin split and rub harshly against the rough, wet floor.

Another slimy tentacle—she wasn't actually sure what to classify the strong, wet muscle as—slid around her neck and squeezed just hard enough to make her see spots. Wrapping her own fingers around the tentacle, she pulled and tore at it with all her might, but it was no use.

The creature lifted Sam and turned her around. Blinking back the bright spots of color inhibiting her sight, Sam finally saw her captor. Dread filled the colonel as she recognized what it was and a fear unlike any she'd ever felt wrapped around her heart like a steel cord.

…

"Jack." The younger man's voice startled the general as he slammed the door to the observation room behind him.

"Daniel." He clipped off the word at the end, irrationally angry at the audacity of his friend.

"Jack." He was leaning against the wall next to the door, arms folded over his chest. Sighing, he stepped forward, sad eyes trained on the door. "You couldn't do it, could you?"

Jack opened his mouth to bite out an angry retort, but his jaw clenched and he could only shake his head, avoiding Daniel's gaze. It was taking all of his self control not to reach out towards Daniel—though whether it was to hit him or hug him, Jack wasn't sure.

"I think you need to, Jack. Or this will never be real to you."

"And if I don't want it to be real?" _'It shouldn't be. It should be me, not her.'_

"I know you don't, Jack. But, trust me, it helps." Daniel took an involuntary step back as Jack whirled, eyes blazing.

"Oh, really? And did it help when you saw Sha're's smoking corpse at your feet? Did it help to see her eyes go blank? Did it?" Jack practically yelled the last at the rapidly blinking archaeologist. He saw the brief shine of tears before Daniel swallowed and nodded.

"Okay." Daniel kept nodding. He knew Jack was hurting; knew he'd just lost the single most important thing in his life…knew that Jack blamed him. Silently, Daniel turned and walked away, feeling the older man's anger and desperation following him all the way down the hall.

Jack turned, prepared to storm away again, but something made him stop. A niggling feeling at the very base of his skull…was it guilt? Maybe. Carter didn't deserve his fear, his weakness. Samantha Carter was always strong and, in turn, she deserved the same. He wasn't ready to let her go, but he couldn't leave her there alone.

Pushing open the door once more, Jack's eyes again landed on the blindingly white sheet. Forcing himself forward and into the room, he didn't even feel the chill air this time. Before he had a chance to think about it and talk himself out of what he needed to do, gentle fingers pulled back the sheet. He let his hand fall limply to his side as the sheet fluttered to just below her collarbone.

Her skin was stone smooth and drawn, waterlogged flesh making her look older than she ever had in life. Her pallor was marble white, her veins a vivid blue beneath her skin. Turning away abruptly, Jack lurched towards the large metal sink in the corner of the room and heaved as bile and what little he had eaten that day made a return trip. Breathing heavily, he kept his back to his colonel, suddenly stupidly afraid of being anything less than composed when he finally turned to face her.

She was really gone.

….

Sam stared wide eyed at the abomination in front of her. She'd never seen something so grotesque, so _wrong_. The thing that held her fast looked like a cross between an Unas and whatever creature had kidnapped Daniel years ago and made them all believe he was dead. She didn't know how it was possible, but the evidence was clear before her. This…mutation…was very real.

It opened its large jaws and snapped at the air, rows of sharp teeth glistening with saliva. "You are the offering." It spoke in a stilted manner, the large pointed teeth making clear speech impossible.

Despite the pressure on her larynx, Sam choked out what she hoped sounded like a confident, flippant answer. "Um…no?" She failed.

"This is most unaccept…able." It hissed like a snake when faced with the double c's.

"Sorry." Sam coughed as the tentacle around her neck loosened slightly. "Guess I'll just go home then."

"That cannot…happen." The thing tilted its head, large black eyes glimmering in the eerie glow. "You carry the parasite."

Sam started to shake her head, but the movement caused the creature to tighten its hold once again, and she went still. "I don't. Not anymore."

"You are…marked. We have no desire of contamination." The thing blew out a labored breath and Sam had the sudden, distinct feeling that there was something wrong with it.

"Contamination?"

"We must…blend. We are…dying."

Sam felt bile begin to rise. "Blend?" She forced the word out, letting it drop heavily into the room.

The creature looked at her in that inhuman way and Sam had the sudden sick feeling that something very, very bad was about to happen.

…..

Jack blinked for what felt like the first time in days. He'd been staring at his fallen colonel, mind making up little stories of how he could have saved her…about how she would suddenly wake up. But when he blinked, clearing the cobwebs, she was still lying there as still and pale as she had been before. "Carter…" He let her name fall for the first time in days. Even after this he couldn't bring himself to use her first name.

Opening and closing his mouth, Jack felt the tears start to gather. Words always seemed to fail him when it came to the woman lying in front of him. Even death didn't change that. Jack winced and felt the first tear fall. He winced again when he saw that it had landed on Carter's cheek. He reached out a shaking finger and brushed her cool, dry skin.

Jack froze. Dry? Why was it dry? He wouldn't consider himself an expert on crying, but he was pretty sure tears were wet. He pulled his finger away and stumbled back in horror. His finger had left a deep indent on her otherwise flawless skin.

Again, he didn't pretend to be an expert on death or its affects on human skin, but he was pretty sure skin didn't start acting like molding clay.

Something was wrong.

**TBC**

**A/N: More to come soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Denial**

**A/N: Thank you again for all of your feedback! I love this story more than I thought I was going to, but we're down to the last few chapters. Hopefully, I'll have you hanging on till the end!**

**Enjoy!**

_Dark. Water. Bubbles rising. Choking._

She gasped as her head broke the surface of the choppy water. The waves tumbled her, but they weren't as punishing as the last time she'd found herself in this situation. How did this keep happening? Her arms flailed frantically for a long minute before her muscles finally remembered how to keep her afloat.

Coughing salt water out of her lungs and somehow managing not to swallow anymore, Sam tread the churning water, looking around her. The water was deep, she could feel the cold blackness wrapping around her ankles and sending a shiver up her spine. Spinning, she was shocked to see that the cliff she and her team had been standing on only a few days ago was only a few hundred feet away.

Feeling tears spring to her eyes, Sam half-laughed and half-choked as another wave pushed at her shoulders. Reaching towards land she swam harder and faster than she'd ever swum in her life. She was so close to home she could practically taste the recycled air in the SGC.

She was so hell-bent on getting back to land—on getting home—Sam didn't once stop to think how she had gotten out.

…..

"Sir, I understand what you're going through. I know you're looking for answers, but this isn't it." Janet turned away from the general's quickly hardening expression. Putting the clipboard she'd been carrying on the nearest empty bed, she sighed. She didn't want to admit it, but a small part of her wished General O'Neill could be right.

She wished Sam—the real one—was still out there.

But the fact was it just wasn't possible. Sam was several levels down, lying on a cold slab.

"I'm telling you, that isn't Carter." Jack resisted the urge to throw his hands up in frustration. He'd spent the last quarter of an hour trying to convince the doc of what he'd seen.

"Sir, it's not abnormal for the skin to lose initial rigidity after twenty four hours." She tried to convince herself that she wasn't talking about Sam. Just some nameless, hapless soul.

"Dammit, Frasier, just look at her!" Jack felt his chest constricting. "Please."

Janet closed her eyes against the pain in his plea and she kept her back to him. She told herself it was to protect his pride, but in all honesty, she didn't want him to see her cry. "I'm sorry, sir." Her words were barely above a whisper. Knowing the tears were inevitable, Janet held her back straight and walked away, fingernails digging into her palms.

"I'll make it an order." Jack called to her retreating form, bordering on desperation.

But she didn't turn around.

….

Sam felt the soft, damp grass under her fingers and only distantly heard her own sob of relief. She didn't know how long she'd been down there, but she felt like she hadn't seen the sun in years. Pulling herself all the way up onto the bank, she allowed herself a moment to just lie on the ground, relishing the way the breeze felt across her chilled skin and the way everything smelled so…fresh. So alive.

Just like her.

Sam's eyes snapped open. She was _alive_.

But _how_?

…

Janet finally felt like the world was coming back into focus; like maybe she wasn't going to fall apart. At least not for the moment. Wiping her cheeks, she let her head fall back against the wall. She'd hidden in her office with the lights off after her encounter with the general, tucking herself into the far corner of her office and crying into her knees.

She kept telling herself to take deep breaths, but her body hadn't wanted to comply. Instead, she took in short ragged gasps until finally she'd been able to get herself under control. Sam was gone. As much as she wanted to believe it, this was not one of those miracles. She'd done the autopsy on her drowned friend herself.

It was Sam.

'_You didn't take blood.'_ A small voice in the back of her head reminded her, but Janet shook her head. She hadn't needed to. All the other tests had been conclusive. Sam was Sam and she had drowned. Still…Janet squeezed her eyes closed again before standing and flicking on the lights. Blinking her swollen eyes to get used to the sudden light, Janet started at the knock at her door.

She whirled as the door swung open, prepared to yell at whoever was barging in, but her words caught in her throat. "Daniel?"

"Hey." He smiled softly as he closed the door behind him. "I was waiting…" When she looked at him expectantly, he pointed up. "For the light."

He must've seen her go in, then waited when she never turned on the light. Janet gave a watery smile in return. Deep down, Daniel Jackson was probably the most considerate guy she'd ever known. "Did the general send you?"

A shadow crossed Daniel's face at the mention of the man, but he shook his head. "Jack…hasn't spoken to me." The corners of Daniel's mouth tugged up and Janet looked away, biting her lip.

"He'll get over it." Janet's voice was quiet.

"Will you?" His question squeezed her heart.

She turned quickly dampening eyes on her friend. The man she sometimes thought could be more. "I already have."

He reached up and brushed his fingertips across her tear stained cheek. "You haven't. I haven't either."

Janet opened her mouth, desperately wanting to contradict him, to comfort him. Daniel smiled that sad little smile again before turning and leaving her alone once more.

….

_The ground was wet and cold, trickles of water sliding away as she gasped for air. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and salt water, her face pale, and her eyes wide. Something was holding her head down, something slimy and cold._

Sam snapped her head back, reflexively getting away from whatever had been holding her. Blinking she looked around and saw that she was still on the beach, thought the sun was much lower. Frowning, she realized she must have blacked out. Holding one hand to her head, she stumbled towards the DHD, her slowly drying uniform wearing down her movements.

Nothing mattered except getting home.

…

"Teal'c!" O'Neill banged on the door to the Jaffa's quarters. "Teal'c, open up!"

"O'Neill." Jack whirled around, not bothering to be embarrassed that he'd been shouting at an empty room for five minutes.

"Teal'c, I need to ask you something." Teal'c inclined his head slowly, dark eyes watchful. "Have you-," Jack looked away, fighting the anxiety that had slowly been building up inside him ever since…ever since he'd touched Sam. "Have you been near Carter since…they brought her back?"

Teal'c felt his heart clench and he once again flashed to the feel of Colonel Carter's water-heavied body in his arms. "I have." The words were difficult, but Teal'c knew he was not the only one in pain. One only had to look at his friends…at O'Neill…to know the acuity with which they hurt.

"Teal'c, and this is important," Jack took a step forward, eyes wide and deadly serious. "Did you sense anything when you saw her?"

"I am afraid I don't understand, O'Neill." Teal'c's brow furrowed slightly.

"Did you sense Naquadah? The Naquadah left over from the snake?" The urgency in O'Neill's voice worried Teal'c. He knew the man was strong, but losing Colonel Carter like he had…

"O'Neill, I…" Teal'c trailed off, eyes suddenly focusing on the wall behind the other man. Something…yes. Normally he only had to be in the same room as Colonel Carter to sense the element's presence and he had _touched_ her. Carried her. And he hadn't felt anything. How was that possible? Teal'c's eyes snapped back to O'Neill's, an expression crossing his face that—if Jack didn't know better—he would call it fear. "I did not sense anything O'Neill."

Jack rocked back on his heels. He'd been hoping—praying—for that answer, but he hadn't been prepared for it. "Teal'c." The two men stared at each other, fear warring with hope.

"O'Neill, that is not Colonel Carter."

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but any words he spoke were drowned out by the sudden blaring of klaxons. Another heavy glance shooting between them, both general and Jaffa raced towards the control room.

…

"Sergeant, report!" Jack shouted before he even got inside the room. Skidding to a halt behind Harriman, he looked down at the computer screen.

"No IDC yet, sir." Walter choked out, blood pounding in his ears.

Jack looked at the gate as it spun, panic welling up from deep inside. What if this was just an SG team coming back from a mission gone wrong or one of their allies calling? What if it was Jacob? Jack looked around the control room and for the first time he noticed the pale, drawn faces that were all watching the gate.

They felt it too.

"IDC recognized." Walter turned around, swallowing hard. "It's SG-1, sir."

Hope flared white hot in Jack's chest, fingers curling with the strength of the emotion. "Open the iris!" Body moving before his mind could catch up, he started for the stairs, but a voice behind him froze him in his tracks.

"Belay that order, do not open the gate, sergeant!"

Jack whirled, fire blazing in his eyes and he stared in disbelief at the woman who had a restraining hand on Walter's shoulder. "Open it, Harriman!" Furious eyes on the woman he shouted, "Doctor Frasier, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but whoever is trying to get in that gate isn't Sam." His eyes flicked between the doctor and the gate, praying that Carter was taking her time going through. "Airman, restrain the general!"

Jack watched in disbelief as two male nurses came at him. What the hell was going on?

"Sir, I want her back just as much as you." The small doctor's eyes were blazing. "But you are opening this base to an unknown threat!"

"We've already done that!" Jack yelled, launching himself at the manual iris control.

"Stop him!" Janet shouted.

Jack fought, but he was too far away. The iris was still closed and they were out of time. "Teal'c!"

**TBC**

**A/N: Getting down to it! Just a few more chapters left…**

**UPDATE: Thank you to AlyssaJMcarthy for catching my 'belay/delay' mix up!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Backwards**

**A/N: Thank you again for all your support and feedback! Though to some of you, cut me some slack! Don't you guys know me by now? Characterization is hugely important to me and this is fanfiction…if something seems very out of character, have faith! There is a reason for it.**

**Also, I am SO SO SORRY. I have no excuse. Please forgive me. This is a super short chapter, but I wanted to give you guys something to tide you over.**

**Enjoy!**

Walter gritted his teeth against the shooting pains in his shoulder as he tried to reach for the iris override, but the hand restraining him was too forceful. When had Dr. Frasier become so strong? Eyes flicking around the control room Walter realized he was unable to move any other part of his body. Judging by the fearful and frozen expressions on the others faces, they were all experiencing the same thing.

Except for General O'Neill and the SFs holding him, they were all struggling ferociously. Walter glanced back at the computer, a sudden blip jogging across the energy output line indicated someone had just stepped through on the other side.

An incoming traveler…

Colonel Carter.

"Teal'c!" He heard O'Neill's shout, then felt himself being shoved aside as the Jaffa barreled towards the computer. He grabbed Walter's hand and slammed it down on to the override, pausing only to see that the iris was indeed opening, before whirling and seizing Janet Frasier by the shoulders.

The general had stopped struggling and had turned wide eyes on the gate. At the same time that Frasier's hands were removed from him, Walter felt like a rubber band had snapped, the tension on his muscles releasing as he found he could move again and he too turned towards the open wormhole.

Where Samantha Carter stood outlined by the shimmering pool, her wide blue eyes staring up into the control room at what must have been a truly confusing sight. If it wasn't so serious, Walter might have laughed.

"Carter!" Jack shouted and Sam's eyes snapped to his, fear and confusion etching deep lines into her expression. Jack wrenched his arms away from the airmen and made to run for the stairs when he was stopped yet again. This time by a blood curdling anguished scream. He turned around to see Frasier fighting against Teal'c, clawing towards the plate glass window, a look of utter hatred twisting her features.

"Teal'c, what the hell are you doing?" Daniel came skidding into the room, eyes furious behind his glasses. "Let her go!"

"She is not who she appears to be, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's voice was strained as he struggled to subdue the doctor.

"Teal'c!" Daniel shouted.

"Daniel!" Jack threw his hands in the air—it was all too much. "Carter!" Jack spun back towards the window, seeking his colonel's eyes…and froze. She was gone. "Goddammit!" He turned back to the chaos surrounding him. "Everyone shut up!"

The room fell silent, except for the snarling doctor. "I want this base on lockdown—now! No one in or out. Teal'c, take Frasier to Isolation Two and get Mackenzie down there. Daniel, I am ordering you not to interfere." He turned back to the gateroom, spine stiffened with panic. "We need to find Colonel Carter." He turned a hard glare to the people in the room, all of whom stood frozen in place. "Go, people! Now!"

**A/N: Again, so so sorry.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Invaded**

**A/N: Sorry again! This one is short too, but begins to answer some questions. **

**Enjoy!**

Sam leaned her head back against the cool, concrete wall, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of her surroundings. She'd taken one look at the chaos in the control room and bolted. A part of her wondered desperately if she was actually back at the SGC and not some fabricated version and another part felt sure that this was her home…and something had invaded it.

The only thing she knew for sure was that she was absolutely not prepared to deal with either possibility.

The klaxons were still blaring even though the wormhole had long ago disengaged and that little sign sent a shiver through Sam's body. Something was very clearly wrong. And they would be looking for her.

Get out.

Those two words had her looking desperately around the small storage closet she was in. Why? Why would she have picked such a terribly disadvantageous place to hide? Sam silently cursed her decision and was about to poke her head out into the hallway when the door burst open. She threw her arms up in the sudden blaze of light, but before her eyes could adjust, the door slammed shut leaving her in darkness again.

Except this time, she wasn't alone.

…

Daniel stood in the observation room, arms crossed, and a frown wrinkling his features. The woman snarling and spitting below him was not the Janet Fraiser he knew, though all the bloodwork they'd done on her pointed to the conclusion that she was.

"Something has taken over Doctor Frasier's consciousness." Teal'c had said when Mackenzie informed them of the rushed results. "This is not the Doctor Fraiser we know." Mackenzie had only shrugged helplessly, looking down at the restrained woman.

"Could she be…I mean, is it possible that…?" Daniel had trailed, his voice petering out when faced with the horrifying potential.

"There's no symbiote present." Mackenzie didn't need him to finish the sentence and only barely registered the other man's strangled release of breath.

"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c had turned to him. "I believe the false body of Colonel Carter may have something to do with this facsimile of Doctor Fraiser." Without another word he'd turned on his heel and strode purposely from the room.

Daniel hadn't watched him go.

…..

Sam pressed her back against the wall, the coolness she'd found comforting only moments ago now seeped into her skin, raising the hair on her arms. Her eyes were wide as she searched the black area in front of her, looking for the telltale shift in the shadows…the little breath of movement that would give her an idea where to aim.

"Carter?" The word was barely above a whisper, the tense, strangled quality belying its owner's usual flippant attitude.

"General?" But she really didn't have to ask. As soon as he said her name, her other senses—which had been ignorant in fear—were assailed with his familiar presence. Sam breathed deeply, the smell that was uniquely _him_ swirled around her, the comfort that came with it almost bowling her over.

There was a pause where neither of them moved, both too confused and relieved to do more than breathe. Finally, she felt him shift in front of her. "It's you?"

"Yes?" She drew out the word, suddenly not so sure of her answer. "You're…you?"

"Last I checked." She could practically picture him shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. That little vision of familiarity was what did her in. She felt her throat close and she squeezed her eyes shut as everything they'd both been through pushed down on her. "Carter." It wasn't a question this time. Somehow he knew…he always knew. He could feel when the air shifted around her, when the world got to be too much.

"Yes, sir." Sam managed to keep her voice steady, but her breath hitched as gentle fingers found her cheek. He moved his fingers across her forehead, then down her cheek, and came to rest just under her jawline.

"You're alive."

Despite everything she was feeling, the fear and the tension, she smiled. "Yes, sir."

…..

Teal'c stared down at the cold gurney, the sinking feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. The body of Colonel Carter was how they'd left it, except it was no longer Colonel Carter. A foreign face with slick, dark skin and slitted eyes had replaced the one he knew. Swallowing hard, Teal'c turned and strode from the room.

He had seen this tactic before. The thing lying in Colonel Carter's place was a decoy—an animal from another planet. Something that had been transformed to look like Colonel Carter, but was truly someone's deceased pet. It no longer possessed no threat—the thing enabling the disguise had changed hosts.

Doctor Frasier now carried the alien being.

**TBC**

**A/N: Sorry again for the brevity! I'm wrapping this story up in the next one or two chapters, depending on time. Thank you as always for reading!**


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